


It's a New Year

by Aithilin



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Fluff, M/M, holiday gift fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9323327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Sometimes they need to celebrate the way they want to.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hausos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hausos/gifts).



Time lost meaning the longer they travelled. The worlds— their cultures, festivals, traditions, conflicts— started to blend together the longer they kept moving. Their time in each world was finite; staying in some for months, others for minutes. They hopped between the festivals too— some sombre and quiet reflections, others filled with lights and streamers and gifts. Every world had at least some concept of time, they had found. Some nameless unknown ancestor who watched the stars pass above him or her and decided that a measure of time started at that specific moment. Some worlds defined whole eras by an arbitrary event, others used dynasties and legacies of leaders; some used religious markers, and others based their time on agricultural events. 

And every world celebrated time in some way, Kurogane had found. He learned not to question the traditions they came across. At least, not too closely. 

Syaoran absorbed everything about these differences. He wrote down his notes, compared them to others, requested meetings with the time keepers and those who made these sorts of decisions where he could. Kurogane had found it easier to just tag along and keep the brat out of trouble when he started questioning something a little too sensitive. 

The festivals and traditions from back home— with all their taboos and rituals— seemed far less impressive now that he’s travelled for so long and so far. 

“The new year starts in winter,” Kurogane said, an arm draped around Fai as they watched the lights below— strings of colourful, paper lanterns strung across pathways and roads— light up the darkest night of this world’s year. “Like here. Something to do with the moon.”

“Kuro-min never really paid attention, did he?”

“It wasn’t important then.” He paused as he watched the town below flicker to life— everything seemed to come alive at night in this world. The days were hectic with work and tasks, but the population seemed to move through it like ghosts— only really smiling, acknowledging each other, enjoying themselves, at night. “It still isn’t important.”

This world was peaceful. There were no wars, no rival clans, no tyrannical leaders, nothing that would require a warrior like him to stand around and look menacing. They had landed in the snow near an inn, invited in by a family that had never had to fear for bandits or ruffians. 

“What did you do?” 

This world was much the same as his own, he supposed. There was a flurry of chores and preparations before the actual festivals. 

Now that the festival lights were up and the snow was cleared from the festival grounds, and the town was alive again with the celebrations and colours and anticipation, they had a bit of time to rest together. Kurogane could see the activities from where they were, looking over the bright little town glowing below them; he could hear the noise and the music, and knew that Fai would drag him down any minute now. 

“What do you mean?”

Fai was beaming, Kurogane could practically sense the smiles now. “What did you do to celebrate the new year? All those fun holidays?”

“I made sure no one tried to kill Princess Tomoyo.”

“Kuro-tan is no fun!”

“Idiot.”

“Fine, what did other people do to celebrate?”

“There were parties, and feasts.” He remembered the cold winters in Suwa, when the winds blew in over the lake and down from the mountains, and the bonfires lit by his father while his mother made her blessings before sunrise. He remembered the ceremonies and dutifully attending to his father’s roles. There was no big temple or shrine like at the palace, no bells to ring for luck. But he remembered the treats and noodles and competitions. And he remembered watching the nobles attempt their own cleaning at the palace years later, as he either lifted his princess up to arrange her own closets and shelves, or he followed her orders and placed her bundles of cloth and rolls of dresses away himself. “Everyone tried to go home for the new year, to spend it with their families when they could. The princess has a big party every year.”

“Sounds like trouble for Kuro-sama.”

“It was a pain.”

Fai’s laugh was better than the bells he remembered from the palace temples and shrines. 

“What did you do? In Celes.”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!” Fai danced away from his hold, slipped easily away from the arm that had been draped around his shoulders and grinned as he faced Kurogane in the snow. “Celes didn’t celebrate the new year. Not like this.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Drank.” Fai had grabbed his hands, stepping backwards to pull Kurogane along to the road. To the lights and the fun. “The year started when things could be planted again. Or when the lakes started to thaw enough to start fishing again. We didn’t care about the new year because it meant a lot of work was coming, and that’s just exhausting.”

It had been snowing for several days, the wind from the mountain freezing what little thaw there was until it was just ice crunching beneath their feet. Fai had no trouble dancing his way across those types of surfaces, teaching the local children how to glide across the roads and fields— even if their only way to really stop was to hit something more solid than a snowbank. Kurogane remembered the cold and ice from Suwa— the way the trees froze for a few weeks at a time. He remembered the chill, wet and seeping, as it clung to his bones. He could already feel the sharp bites of cold where his metal arm met flesh. 

Kurogane sometimes wished he had the sense to find heavier clothes. He pulled Fai close again, to shield the blond from the wind, not to leech off the warm smile and energy. “Then why didn’t you celebrate the good year of hard work that you just finished?”

“We had other things to do.”

“You mean you didn’t pay attention to what everyone else was celebrating.”

“Kuro-sama! I’m insulted! Of course I paid attention to the celebrations; I joined in—”

“When they gave you liquor.”

“Yes. That was a part of it.”

Fai always wore practical clothes for the cold. He was always too warm. He would complain about his layers as he draped a fluffy cloak across Kurogane’s shoulders, smiling as Kurogane grumbled at him. It was a soft fur, in this world. Soft furs layered with wool to fight back the chill. He was certain that Fai had charmed it at some point. “Other than drinking, how did you celebrate?”

“Everyone liked to have games and feasts, of course. Like everywhere. They all got together on the lakes, or when the hills were a little more alive during the growing season, there would be cooking competitions and contests over who made the best whatever.”

“No, I mean you, idiot. How did you celebrate while all of this was happening?”

“Oh, I was right in the middle of it all, Kuro-chan!”

“Don’t lie.” He was surefooted on the ice, he knew. At least when it was a horizontal surface. Or if there was some sort of texture to step on. With the slick roads on the edge of a mountain, he had to steady them both with a hand on a tree when Fai tried to pull away too far, too fast. “What did you do?”

“Don’t ask those things, Kuro-sama.”

When he was young, there was a tradition of telling ghost stories in his house to get through the quiet winter nights. His father would regale everyone with stories of his adventures at the edge of the province, fighting demons and saving villages. His retainers and the guards would laugh their way through their own stories of monsters and demons that snatched tired children from the cold roads when they disobeyed their parents’ warnings. 

But his mother’s stories were scary. He remembered them only in bits and pieces. There were creatures in the lake and rivers, in the forest and mountains. There were pale creatures and lingering ghosts with yellow eyes that clawed their way through shadows and snows, seeking out prey in the dead, silent nights. His mother wove her magic into her stories, told him about the creature in the mountains who stole the warmth from a woodcutter out too late in the snow. She told him of dead children, forever pale and cold trudging through the blizzards, their hair gone as white as the ice that killed them. She told him that the shadows under the ice in the deep rivers were the drowned, scratching out their escape with claws and fangs— their hair the colour of the sun they coveted. 

“I want to know what you do, Fai. That’s all.”

“I drank, Kuro-sama. I drank, and I studied, and I smiled for my people to see.”

He remembered a story of a frozen child, smiling in the snow as the blizzard stole him away. Tomoyo had loved the drama of that one. The little frozen boy waiting in the snow for a family and hope that couldn't reach him until it was too late. He sometimes wondered about his princess when she gleefully retold those sorts of tales in their ghost nights. 

The lights above them, strung up across the roads and the pathways, leading through the mountain trails to the celebrating village, caused the snow and ice to glitter around them. The shadows cast were long into the forest— a wall of dark that could hide anything in this peaceful world. But the lights were warm and bright, and Fai was smiling at him, still stepping backwards on the path, careful steps on a slippery slope the mage was far too familiar with. The music drew them both onward, to where Syaoran was likely already getting into trouble with Mokona. 

Kurogane pulled him close, wrapped his warm, living arm around his idiot mage and kissed the golden hair that reminded him of the summer sun of his childhood. “Don’t smile for me, idiot.”

“Let’s go celebrate, Kuro-chan. It’s a new year, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted a bit early for the exchange due to reasons. I'm sorry it's crap, but I hope you enjoyed it! Happy KuroFai Holidays, kiniyakkii!


End file.
